It's All Bittersweet
by GeminiLoverr
Summary: Set in Pheobe Greys perspective. A short collection of memories set around their bond as father and daughter.


I own nothing mentioned, all belong to their respect authors and artists.

I have never wrote in this way before. I wasn't sure how else to write it though...

You may think some of the song choices are random, but that depends on the relationship you have with your own parents. Also, it depends how you interpret the songs. There are no weird relationships intended. I am close to my dad and have a strong relationship with him. That is all that I am trying to portray – friendship and a father/daughter bond. Nothing more. Interpret the songs in a platonic way! Enjoy, I hope!

**My first memory** of my father is when he was dancing with my mother.

It is a bittersweet memory; I remember shouting beforehand, one of their heated moments.

They never _ever_ slept without making up previously though.

This time they made up and started dancing.

It was so romantic. I remember the sweet melody of Jim Brickman's 'All I Ever Wanted' drifting over the sound system.

My father placed his hand delicately on the back of mum, his other hand cupping her neck.

She placed her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest.

You could feel the love emanating from them around the room.

I let them have their moment before I came bounding into the room. After all, I was only 4 years old.

I remember tugging on my dad's shirt, him peering over at me.

His smile. His smile, full of love. I'll never forget that smile. It is one of my most favourite sites in the entire world. I used to think it was a special smile, just for his little girl. But as I grew, I realised it was reserved for the ones he loved.

"Hello beautiful. Come to join in?" He asked, removing his hands from mum.

He gently picked up my hands, placed my feet on top of his and started gliding around the room.

I looked over at mum, a smile gracing my face, a glint in my eyes. She looked on, her face full of love.

She could not take her eyes off of us.

It was magical.

Beautiful.

Just a moment in time.

**The second memory** I have of dancing with my father was when I was 10 years old.

I had just come home from school and dad was in his office. As per usual! I was fed up because the boy I had a crush on was interested in my best friend, mum had bought me the wrong dress and dad? Well, he was working. He was always working. I was starting to resent it at this point in time.

So, I did what I thought was the most appropriate thing to do. I barged in and started shouting, taking a leaf from my old fathers book of tricks.

"DAD! WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS WORKING?!"…

"I DON'T CARE. I WANT A NEW DRESS!"…

"TEDDY IS BEING A NUISANCE. HE DOESN'T PLAY WITH ME ANYMORE!"…

"NO ONE LISTENS TO WHAT I WANT!"…

You get the jist.

What was even more infuriating though, was that he just sat there, mouth hanging open and his eyes unblinking.

It was quite comical, looking back upon the scene.

Eventually though, he got fed up of me shouting.

"ENOUGH PHEOBE GRACE GREY!" He shouted.

Miraculously, I just stopped. Breathing heavy, my face beetroot and my hands shaking.

He stood up, press play on the iPod docking station and gracefully moved towards me.

I remember thinking he was too calm, too collected to be handling this situation. But he was like that, always in control, always protective, always listening even though he was so abrasive with his own employees.

He just understood his family though.

He was always an amazing father.

A role model.

The person I wanted to my future husband to look up too and follow in his footsteps.

When he got to me, he bent down to my eye-level.

"Baby, you are forever in my thoughts. You're my baby girl. How could I ever forget you?"

He was always so calm and collected. Unless of course I over-stepped the line. Then he would shout.

"Just because I am busy working does not mean that I will not spend time with you eventually. Remember what I said a few days ago? I'm working on a big deal at the moment. But, since you came in here guns blazing, I will do one thing." He said cryptically.

He stood up, grabbed my right hand and placed my other on his waist, and his other hand on my shoulder and glided across his office space.

His grey eyes were twinkling and his smile was infectious.

I immediately forgot my worries.

He had this special ability to do that to his loved ones though.

He was always so caring, so generous.

I looked up at him in awe. My dad.

I listened intently to the lyrics of the tune and remember the faint strings of ABBA, 'Slipping Through My Fingers'.

It was a special moment, one between father and daughter.

My dad's eyes were glazed over, the twinkle just about shining through.

Suddenly I forgot where we were and why I was so angry. All I felt was this over-powering love and bond that my father and I had.

As the last chords played out, my dad looked up and stopped.

Mum was standing in the doorway, a tear streaking down her soft face. A sad smile adorned her lips.

Dad motioned over for her to join us and she did.

Dad held my right hand and mum held my left as Stealers Wheel's 'Stuck In The Middle With You' started playing.

The moment was gone, replaced by one of happiness and giggles. Eventually Teddy bounded in and joined in.

It was a wonderful afternoon, but the most prominent moment for me was definitely that special memory with my dad.

That is one that I will definitely cherish.

**The third memory** I have of dancing with my father is my sweet 16.

I was walking downstairs, a smile on my face as I reached the kitchen.

The only time dad was ever up without mum was our birthdays. Mum slept in whilst dad prepared the only meal he could cook:

Pancakes.

Dad only ever cooked them on our birthdays. He always said it was so we appreciated them more, and boy did it work.

He had just finished laying the table with all the trimmings when I walked in.

It smelled divine.

"Heya baby girl! Happy birthday!" He declared, his arms opening for a hug.

I loved hugging daddy; he was always warm, comforting and reminded me of home. I would never tire of his hugs.

"Heya dad! Smells delicious in here," I replied.

He smiled even wider and held his hand out for me.

I looked up at him confused.

"Take my hand sweetheart. I wanna dance!"

He always was full of surprises…

Even more surprising though was his song choice.

I burst out laughing, loving how eclectic our family was.

As Queen, 'You're My Best Friend' blared over the surround sound, dad gently swayed me to the music.

It was times like these that I was reminded of our bond.

Our laughter.

Our happy moments.

As the song ended, another one started playing.

As soon as the chords and the beat washed over, I realised it was my favourite song.

Beyoncé, 'Halo'.

It was a song that had become my mantra.

I had, had a tough few years and it was then that I realised my dad was always there. Watching from the side-lines. Talking to mum. Talking to whoever I had confided in to ensure that I was okay.

That I was surviving.

I wasn't mad at him for snooping though.

I was thankful.

Losing Grandma Grace, Pops and Teddy in one go was a tough time. Thankfully dad saw to it that the drunk driver was prosecuted. But add to that the recent mugging that I endured and the fact that mum had breast cancer was a lot to handle.

I just needed a reminder that dad was there for me though.

My rock, anchor and friend.

As the tears slowly gathered in my eyes, my voice quietly crocked out:

"Thank you daddy."

**The fourth memory** I have of dancing with my father is when him and mum had, had an argument.

He was brooding in his office at Grey House and I had just had a shit day.

It was my first day at Grey House as an apprentice and I was fed up.

I barged into his office (ever since I was 10 it just became a habit), and immediately stopped when I saw his tear streaked face.

I had never seen my dad cry before. I know he had cried; mum had told me so. But I had never seen it for myself.

He looked so lost.

Weak.

Defeated.

Exhausted.

I forgot about all of my worries and focused on my father.

He needed me right now, even if he would not admit to it.

I walked around his desk and over to his iPod station.

I found the song I was looking for, 'Beauty and The Beast' (the instrumental version).

I walked over to my father and placed my hand on his shoulder.

He turned around, his eyes red and puffy.

He stood up and hugged me.

I returned, gently swaying him to the music.

He didn't cry.

He didn't speak.

He didn't protest.

He didn't explain.

We just swayed, me calming him down.

It was a moment in time that was sentimental.

I knew mum and him were going through a tough patch but I was always there.

I had to be.

**The last memory** I have of dancing with my father was at my wedding.

I had just turned 28 and married the love of my life.

It took me a while to settle down.

Not because my father was hot-headed when it came to my dates, but because I was picky, had trust issues and was ambitious.

It was difficult to find someone to put up with me.

As the song drifted over the speakers, tears sprung to my eyes.

Luther Vandross, 'Dance With My Father Again', always made me teary.

I knew dad's days were limited due to his heart condition.

I held him tight, my arms around his waist.

His voice was comforting, gently cooing the lyrics in my ears, his arms tight around my waist. Mimicking mine.

'_And I knew for sure that I was loved_'.

My face was buried in his chest, my breathing ragged.

I was desperately trying not to weep into him.

'_If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him, I'd play a song that would never ever end'._

As the song ended, I subconsciously knew that tonight would be the night.

The night I would never forget.

_**Present time**_:

"Mummy?" I questioned.

"Yes baby?"

"Will you be okay?" I asked her.

"Yes…" She replied, her voice faint and croaky.

My dad had just been taken away to a more peaceful place on my wedding night.

It was a day full of emotions ranging from happiness to tears to bittersweet memories to torment.

I knew how much my parents meant to one another.

I gently backed out of her room and remembered the lyrics from earlier as I closed her door.

She let out a heart-wrenching sob;

'_Sometimes I'd listen outside her door, and I'd hear how mama would cry for him._

_I'd pray for her even more than me, I'd pray for her even more for me._

_I know I'm praying for much too much,_

_But could you send her,_

_The only man she loved._

_I know you don't do it usually, but dear Lord, she's dying to dance with my father again._

_Every night I fall asleep, and this is all I ever dream'_.

The next day I wake up and run over to my mother's room.

I hear the faint chords of 'All I Ever Wanted' playing on the system.

It was their song.

As I open the door, I already know before I see.

My mum is lying on the bed, now to be in a better place.

I let out a soft sob just as my husband places his arm around me;

"Don't worry darling. They're in a better place now,

A place full of love, never-ending dances and happiness."


End file.
